


And Then There Were No More Robins

by Hezaia



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Canon-Typical Violence, Dubious Morality, Gen, Jason Todd Kills Joker (DCU), Jason Todd is Red Hood, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:20:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29107704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hezaia/pseuds/Hezaia
Summary: Crime Alley. The Batmobile. A boy with a crowbar in hand.A decision had to be made, now or never.The question was: Should he take the long road or the shortcut to his intended destination?The answer?
Relationships: Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Comments: 10
Kudos: 167





	And Then There Were No More Robins

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The only DC comic I own is the Red Robin series, and I’ve mostly experienced the DC universe through animated series and movies as well as fanfic. Some research has been done on wikis and such, but let’s say that some liberties might have been taken with canon.
> 
> Also, time travel or dimensional displacement is my lifeblood, especially if it involves the batfam in some way. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Also, just out of curiosity: Would anyone be interested in seeing additional fics in this particular AU? I might have a few ideas...

* * *

Crime Alley. The Batmobile. A boy with a crowbar in hand, weighing it as well as the pros and cons. Crime Alley was no place to dawdle though; a decision had to be made, now or never.

The crowbar carried plenty of unpleasant memories, but for now, it was a necessity. He would get new, better tools in time and add them to his arsenal. The question was, should he take the long road or the shortcut to his intended destination?

The long road featured a few years of happiness and a sense of belonging, of purpose. It was a temptation – a longing – but it was already too late. Because even if he could relive those days, he would ultimately only try to replicate them while harbouring the bitter knowledge of how it all ended. Like sure, he could try to do better this time around – to be a better Robin; the type that didn’t fuck up, run away and die and all – but, you know…?

Dying once had been enough. Dying twice had been an exaggeration. Waking up as a kid with his memories of the future largely intact had been unexpected, but hardly unbelievable. The question was what to make of it.

Bruce – no, Batman likely had some sort of protocol for this, perhaps even several. Unfortunately for him though, Jason Todd was long since past the point of caring about such things.

He did care about the state of Gotham though, especially about certain parts of it. However, in his current state, he could only do so much; he was young and lacked resources, and while he did remember his training, his current body did not.

Getting picked up by Batman would greatly speed up the process of regaining some of said skills. However, doing so would undeniably put him back under Batman’s thumb, and that would make things _very_ hard for him in the longer term.

Still, with his mother – Catherine, that is, not his biological one – dead and him effectively on the street, it was difficult to prepare for his eventual takeover of the Gotham drug trade. He needed to find better shelter as well as a space where he could train as well as a source of things that he needed in order to protect himself; guns and all that. And he also needed to relearn to use them, and take the strength of the recoil into consideration. Because a body like his current one was hardly equipped to handle it. He needed to get stronger, but in order to get stronger, Jason most definitely needed more than he had at the moment. Getting what he needed from one of the gangs was technically an option, but it was an option that Jason would rather not explore. Because he would like to stay firmly off the radar until he was strong enough to begin his climb to the top.

But there was one other particular option, wasn’t there?

* * *

“No, not like that. Like this. Again.”

Itty-bitty Timothy Drake mimicked the movement. Given the scrawny state of him, the boy was obviously built for speed and agility rather than for brute force. That explained the bo staff, really. Jason was by no means planning to teach him that though; if the brat continued to prove his usefulness and _didn’t_ manage to drop dead while Jason gained more influence, then maybe, just maybe, Jason would see it fit to point him in the right direction, or maybe even arrange something for him.

For now though, Jason was only fulfilling his end of the agreement: teaching the brat some basic self-defence moves that would be very good to have the next time he almost got kidnapped by a bunch of human traffickers. Also, to fight dirty; the Replacement needed any advantage he could get, really, and even then, he was hardly any threat to Jason. Like, sure, the brat had somehow managed to stalk the Bat and his bird for years without getting caught, managing to snap quite an impressive collection of photos, and he had a mind that was like a steel-trap. But a razor-sharp mind was no guarantee for survival, and while Jason might have made attempts on the Replacement’s life in the past (future), he had no real intention of doing it now.

Because, as much as he hated to admit it, he had not treated the Replacement fairly. It was easier to admit to himself now, when those moments of Pit-induced rage were simply distant memories. Besides, in this timeline, the Replacement had yet to do anything to make Jason want to slit his throat or put a bullet or batarang in him. In this timeline, Tim was a lonely rich kid with minimal parental supervision that practically had a whole mansion to himself right under Batman’s nose with the man himself none the wiser, and he had foolishly allowed Jason into his home as a secret freeloader and trainer.

Because while the Replacement – who needed a new nickname in Jason’s head by the way, seeing as to how he had yet to replace anybody – was still very much an amateur, he was a quick learner, and in training him, Jason was able to slowly get his own body up to speed. It also helped to have a warm and secure place to sleep, and better nutrition on top of that.

That lady that came around sometimes – Mrs. Mac or whatever her name was – had somehow failed to notice Jason’s presence. Then again, Jason was also pretty damned good at hiding himself when he felt like it. Still, as he waited for the woman to finish her cleaning and leave, Jason could not help to ponder the absence of Tim’s parents. Before, he had been too preoccupied with himself and other things to give the matter much thought, but the Replacement was undoubtedly being abused. It might not be through hits or cigarette burns or similar things, but this was an undeniable case of neglect, rich people style. No wonder the Replacement had been such a damned workaholic do-gooder and people pleaser; he had undoubtedly derived his sense of self-worth from validation he received from others, which was pretty fucked up, but not at all uncommon. The guy himself had likely not been aware of it either.

Absentmindedly, Jason wondered what might eventually become of the Replacement now that there was no one to replace; no mask, no costume and no sense of purpose to take on and hide behind. Technically, Jason _could_ push him Batman’s way and see what happened, but why would he? Giving Batman a new Robin was the same as giving the Joker a new target, and no matter what Jason might have thought of the Replacement – past, present or future – that was not a fate that he wished upon anyone. Then again−

Jason reloaded his recently – and illegally – acquired gun and took aim.

−if there was no Joker, then it was another matter. Because while the brat seemed to have imprinted on Jason slightly after the whole ‘saving him from human traffickers’ thing, he might very well become a liability once Jason began working his way towards the top. Granted, he could potentially prove a great asset too, and if so, then Jason would probably laugh at the irony.

Because the Bat was so high and mighty with his no-killing policy, and the Replacement had followed this dogma even when his own life was at risk – from villains, rogues, gangs, assassins and even from his own supposed allies. Like sure, Jason had been bad, but that Damian kid had certainly done his part.

Then again, there was evidently more to the Replacement than his fighting skills, investigative skills, hacking skills and work as a strategist; word had it that the very same Replacement had temporarily joined forces with the League of Assassins and then turned on them and wrecked some bases and their network in one fell swoop. That took some serious guts, and as did pulling another one over Ra’s when the bastard turned up for revenge.

In many ways, Timothy Drake was Batman 2.0, or at least that was what he could have eventually become, if not for outside interference. Also, minus some emotional constipation and rigidity; like sure, he – or rather the future him – came with his own slew of complexes and twisted personality, but at least he had the sense to know when to call for aid from outside forces rather than keep up the whole ‘no metas in my city’ policy Batman had instated.

This Tim though – who was not yet (and would never be) Robin – what would eventually become of him? Should Jason keep him out of it and far away from any of this vigilante shit? It was sensible after all; a child like him did not belong out in the field. Then again, Tim was smart, and trying to keep him out of the loop for too long might just end up with him going out into the field anyway, and in him potentially getting himself killed.

And since Jason had already gone through the trouble of saving the brat, that would kind of make it a waste of effort, right?

* * *

“Hey, Tim.”

“…Yeah?”

“That’s enough for today. Go take a shower and meet me in the living room in twenty. Bring your computer.”

“What are we doing?”

“That’s for me to know, and for you to find out. So, hurry up. If you do good, I’ll make pancakes.”

The brat opened his mouth but then wisely snapped it back shut. And yeah, Jason was perfectly aware that there was a difference in-between doing good and doing well and that he was in fact referring to the latter, but he was just too damned lazy to adjust his English to match the standardized version. Or rather, he simply didn’t care, because why would it matter, really? It was not as though he was trying to attend Gotham Academy or charity galas or whatever. And if the thought of the latter brought back stabbing recollections of his past (future) life and Alfred’s cooking, then that was really no one’s business but his own. 

* * *

“Tch, I missed.”

Adjusting to his younger body and the increased strain from the recoil took time. Jason did not want to overdo it, because damaging his body this early on in the game would not be a very smart move – that is, unless he wanted to take another dip into a Lazarus Pit to undo it all, which he obviously didn’t, very much preferring to go about life with his insanity intact; as intact as it could be considered anyways, all things considered.

Granted, with him making new memories, Jason’s memories of his previous lifetime were gradually becoming less intrusive – it would have been too optimistic to assume that they would fade entirely. Also, it would suck to lose them beforehand. Because while they might be a bit traumatising and generally a pain to deal with, especially at certain times, Jason had an advantage that others didn’t.

Granted, he had already diverged from his original path, but him becoming Robin or not becoming Robin had little influence on the movements of the gangs, and whatever influence his presence or absence might have had on rogues, villains, heroes and all that, Jason had already decided that it was not his problem anymore.

Actually no, Jason did intend on making this one particular guy his problem. Because he had died because of him, and since Batman hadn’t had the guts to avenge him then, then Jason would simply have to avenge himself. Granted, he was technically going to avenge himself ahead of time, since the Joker of this era did not even know he existed. Then again, would that really be that much of a problem? Jason could save far more lives this way, not just his own.

A headshot, then a double-tap. Maybe even some dismemberment or decapitation to follow on top of that, simply to ensure that the bastard wouldn’t manage to cling to life by even a single thread. Because one really shouldn’t go easy on the Joker; showing him mercy only ended with you or someone you loved at his mercy, and it was debatable if the guy actually had any. Granted, considering Jason’s own actions as the Red Hood, perhaps he could be considered a hypocrite. However, as far as this matter was concerned, the different sides would simply have to agree to disagree. Because if Batman couldn’t get past the idea that killing the Joker would make Batman a lesser man himself, then that was his problem. Now Jason, Jason had no qualms about getting his hands dirty, or in keeping his hands steady as he took aim.

Bruce might never forgive him for it, but Jason would never forgive _him_ for failing to do even that. Because, while Jason’s own actions might have contributed to his own demise to a certain degree, that in itself did not change the aftermath. Returning as the Red Hood, Jason had given Batman an ultimatum, choosing the Joker or choosing him, and Batman had chosen.

This Batman had not, but he did not know about Jason either. Jason was a non-entity to him for now, and fully intended to remain such for a little while longer. As for what his current future held, well, that obviously remained to be seen.

Jason already had his priorities sorted in regards to what he would do when he had enough skill and resources.

First, he would kill the Joker and make sure the clown bastard was really dead.

Then, he would take on Gotham’s bustling drug trade.

Because this was the smartest course of action; not making any greater waves before the time was right.

Besides, dealing with the gangs after dealing with the Joker would likely make things easier too. Because even most hardened criminals knew to stay the Hell away from the clown bastard, and if Jason – under his vigilante alias – managed to off the guy, then, well, that would surely establish him as a force to be reckoned with, no?

* * *

A headshot, followed by a double-tap, and the Joker was as dead as a doornail. Jason seriously considered salting and burning the corpse, at least until he had a much better idea.

Granted, it was not eight heads in a duffle bag, but it was a start, and as far as entrances went, Red Hood could hardly have asked for a more impactful one.

Because after a bit of thought, that was the name that he eventually settled for; Red Hood. Because no matter the name’s origins, Jason had more or less grown into it, perhaps even more than he had with Robin. Then again, Jason had never had the chance to properly grow into his identity as Robin, had he? Or, well, not a chance to grow out of it, at least.

Through the scope of his recently acquired sniper rifle, Jason spotted Black Mask arriving at a particular warehouse in Gotham Harbor – the very same warehouse that Jason had recently rigged up with explosives. Odds were that the explosives would be found and likely also in time, allowing the lot enough time to evacuate the building. It didn’t matter though, because Jason was by no means naïve enough to assume that Black Mask’s criminal empire would crumble from something as minor as this. No, no, this was not about any of that; this was about sending a message.

* * *

“But do we really have to kill people?”

Technically, Jason was the one with blood on his hands, so there was no ‘we’ in all of this, only him. Tiny Tim helped out with research and monitoring, and provided Jason with a safehouse that had yet to be compromised.

Jason scoffed. “Tim, someone as observant as you can’t possibly have missed the fact that this city is overrun with crime. Gotham has Batman, yes, but Batman is just one man, whose moral compass prevents him from being the hero that Gotham needs. Beating up criminals and dumping them with the police for them to end up in either Blackgate or Arkham is not a long-term solution. Yes, Bruce Wayne giving people job opportunities and all helps, I won’t deny that, but it’s not like people like Black Mask and his lot are going to quit their criminal careers simply because they receive a favourable job offer. I don’t care if it’s money or ideals that drives them into doing what they do. If they cross me, then they’re out. I’m not above giving second chances to those that don’t know any better before I’ve gotten up and running, but when it comes to those that are aware of my rules and still choose to cross me, then I won’t show mercy. These people are not the sort where you can afford to be lenient, Tim. That’s the kind of thinking that puts you and other people in danger. If I fail to make an example out of them, then how can the rest of them learn to stop selling to kids, hm?”

Tiny Tim shot him a look. It made Jason smile.

“You’d still be killing people though, potentially lots of them,” Tiny Tim pointed out. “Some of them might not be doing it purely out of their own volition either; bigger actors could be blackmailing or threatening them to do stuff like sell drugs to kids and other stuff. Do you really think it’d be justified then, to kill someone who didn’t really have much of a choice in the first place?”

That was some big words coming out of the brat’s mouth. Still− “Unless I had to act in self-defence, then I’d obviously try to check beforehand.”

Tim nearly threw his hands up in exasperation at that; the present him was a whole lot more animated than the one Jason had known in his previous life. Then again, the brat was also very adept at hiding his emotions and displaying a false front when he felt like it.

“Seriously,” Tim sighed, wringing his hands now. “You’d try to check beforehand? _Try?_ What if your initial intel’s wrong and you’d already killed an innocent man?”

Hah.

“Well.” Jason couldn’t help but chuckle. “Looking up all the background info does sound like a whole lot of work, and while I’m pretty skilled, I’m just one person and I might just be busy fighting and all that. It sure wouldn’t hurt to have someone with the appropriate skills and resources to do the research, I guess?”

The brat immediately stilled and then looked up, eyeing Jason. There was a certain glint in his eye.

“Look.” Jason leaned back into his chair. “If you honestly think that I’m going off the rails here, then there’s a pretty easy solution to all of this, don’t you think?” Saying this, he made not very subtle motion towards the direction of Wayne Manor. “If you went over there and presented the gist of my great masterplan, then I’m sure the big bad Bat would welcome you with open arms. Perhaps he’d even write you an autograph before confiscating your Batman and Robin collection and putting you somewhere where he could keep a good eye on you and make sure you wouldn’t blab. And who knows, kid? Maybe there would be some sort of crisis that would demand that you put on that awfully designed Robin uniform and head out to save the Bat from some rogue? Sounds like a dream, doesn’t it? Becoming Robin, fighting crime, flying… I’m sure the thought’s crossed your mind at least once or twice as you camped out on those rooftops to snap those pictures. Heck, maybe the Bat would even see it fit to train you. Maybe you’d get lucky. But maybe you’d get unlucky. Maybe some other Gotham rogue – not the clown bastard obviously, since I’ve already dealt with him – but some other rogue from the area or outside the area would get the drop on you. Heck, maybe even some goon would get in a lucky shot. In any case, odds are that your dream would end badly. Maybe you’d get stabbed, beaten to death, poisoned, shot, pushed off of some building, blown up or tortured into insanity? Or maybe it’d just be an accident. Who knows. Anyways− What was I talking about again?”

Tim’s eyes narrowed slightly at that, and he leaned forward, leaning his elbows onto the table and his chin on top of his interlaced fingers. “You told me to turn you in to Batman if I thought you’d lost your mind. And then you digressed into some rant about Batman and Robin, and then you attempted to talk me out of ever becoming Robin. You know, Jason, this has been bothering me for a while now, but: This is personal, isn’t it? And I don’t mean just because Gotham is your hometown; I mean with you and the Joker and with you and Batman. I don’t know what happened, but if you want my help, then I need to know what I’d be getting myself into. Also, I’m a kid. If you really want to change Gotham for the better, then you’re going to need more allies. And what you say and do out in the field is obviously going to have an impact on how many and what kind of allies you’ll be able to get. You've already got one kill to your name. Killing more will make you out to be a villain. Killing strictly in self-defence is one thing, but… there are other ways. If you completely forego the judicial system, then what’s the damned point of us having one in the first place?”

Hah. “Tim, the police force is corrupt, and the number of officers whose word can be trusted can be counted on one hand. And the judicial system is a joke, frankly.”

“Then give me the chance to gather enough evidence to get them convicted,” Tim said. “And for the system to deal with them. If the system lets them off too easily, you go after the system. And if they break out of prison or Arkham, then…”

He trailed off. Jason could see his mind working furiously. It was kind of cute actually.

“You know what?” Jason said, cracking a smile. “Fair enough. First-time offenders are all yours, unless they actively try to shoot me dead when I apprehend them. Serial offenders of violent crimes though… they’re mine. You’ll assist me with research and monitoring, but you’ll let me deal with them as I see fit. How about it, partner?”

He extended a hand.

The brat eyed it with evident wariness. But he still took it, and shook it. “What happens now, Hood?” he eventually asked. "I don't even have my own alias yet."

Jason’s smile grew into an outright grin. "I've got a few ideas."

* * *

And then, there were no more Robins.


End file.
